


In The Name Of Dean (Temporary Title)

by IllBuildATimeMachine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, F/M, Flirty Dean Winchester, Funny, I love this fic so much, M/M, POV Alternating, Pirate Shenanigans, Soooooo Much, Sweet, alternating pov, bakery fluff, beautiful cas, fun flowy wording
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllBuildATimeMachine/pseuds/IllBuildATimeMachine
Summary: The cutest thing I could write about Dean and Cas meeting each other and falling for each other, in a world where things are safe and normal.Except love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've just been typing stuff on my phone for a while, and I decided that if I didn't share this one fic with you guys, I'd be the most selfish person in this world.  
> But since I've posted this FROM MY PHONE (which is painful and hard and almost impossible for me) the editing I have managed to accomplish is truly shit.  
> Please think that in my eagerness to share something nice, I found no time to polish it. I'll do it later, I promise.  
> Tell me what you think of this!  
> Love,  
> I'llBuildATimeMachine.

DEAN

It was his eyes that did it for Dean.

He just stood there, reading the display outside the shop, printed on one-way visibility glass, frowning slightly at the kinds of cakes listed on the one-way-visibilty glass pane. Dean was standing inside the shop, wiping the glass, and therefore had a full, unrestricted view of the face, and the man accompanying it. He paused in his work, cloth still pressed to the glass, and cleaning fluid still in the other hand, and kept looking.

It all began with shocks of straight black hair, looking like they had never seen a comb since forever. A face was hidden under it, all planes and angles and day-old stubble, with lips that were being bitten since the past five minutes and were all the more redder and softer because of it. It was when he raised his face to the shop's name that Dean witnessed the miracle that were his eyes.

Whoa. That was the first word that came to Dean, and only in the figurative way of expressing surprise, and not as anything else even remotely approaching a verb. And then : Blue. They were the kind of blue that made Dean thankful that a word already existed to describe that color. Blue. Blue.

 

CASTIEL

His name was Castiel.

The shop's name was a tad weird, he had decided already. Who names a bakery Zep Zap Zoop Zakes? It sounded like a very childish alien had named it. And the names of the different cakes were equally weird, too. His sister, Anna, had asked him to especially get a birthday cake from this place, something space related, for his nephew, West. But what was he supposed to do with cakes named Mars Invasion or Eat The World? Or the weirdest one, In The Name Of Dean?

So Castiel just stood there, trying to make up his mind between the two safest sounding ones - Honey Hullabaloo and Cold Caramel Creature. Hmm. Tough choice. At least he could predict the major component of the two cakes in question, honey and caramel, respectively, and he was leaning towards honey and had almost made his choice. He didn't hear the bakery door open with a small ting of the bell, but he did notice the amazing bakery smell that suddenly wafted towards him when that happened. He was inhaling something very familiar - vanilla? - when a man's voice hollered towards his general direction.

"Hey! Just come in already! Are you going to stand there all day debating between Honey Hullabaloo and Cold Caramel Creature?"

Very surprised indeed, Castiel turned to look at the man calling him into the bakery. Something hit him from all directions as soon as his eyes met the other man's, and he let a short exhale escape him. His brain was thinking of two words, and two words only. Oh. And nice.

The object of these compliments was right now looking at him with widened eyes, as if to say, mate, hello, come in already? With a slight nod, which Castiel didn't even know why he gave, he stepped into the bakery after the man, inhaling more vanilla and cinnamon and coffee and almond smells as they surrounded him.

Castiel liked the shop, which had more childish alien decor, done up in green and orange and dark midnight blue with random stars and planets and spaceships around the place, on the walls and the ceilings and the floors. The man who'd called him now made a show of walking behind the counter and put on a cap with ZZZ printed on it.

Someone had taken a Sharpie of the same color and crossed all the Z's, so now it looked like XXX. 

"Good afternoon. What can I get you at Zep Zap Zoops?"

Castiel tore his eyes from the cap to meet the shopkeepers eyes and promptly forgot what he was here for. Green eyes. "Good afternoon," he said, fiddling with his tie. "I'm here for... a cake?"

The cashier pointed to the counter and the shelves all around the walls of the bakery, lined with birthday cakes of all kinds. About thirty cakes stood facing him. "Clearly," the cashier said, trying very hard not to smile.

It was with great difficulty that Castiel managed to not go red with embarassment. Freckles. He tried again, with his hands running subconsciously through the short hair at the back of his neck. Smile. "Uh, I'm looking for a cake shaped like an alien, you know, a green one?" Green eyes. Castiel said, watching as the man took notes in a small book on the counter. Dark caramel hair. "And, er, with red hair." The man looked up from his note-taking.

"A green alien," said the man, grinning now, "With red hair," he observed.

Castiel was now being bombarded with the two original words that had popped into his head. Oh. And nice. Oh nice oh nice oh oh nice. Jawline. Oh.

"Yes, and since it is his eighth birthday, it would be great if this alien could possess," Castiel said, and then he added, with as much dignity he could muster, "About eight legs."

It was worth it. The cashier laughed, a no-holds-barred, wide eyed, head thrown back kind of laugh, after which Castiel had no choice in the matter at all.

 

DEAN

Dean pretended to be looking towards the street for customers while the man who ordered the alien cake took a call.

"Yes," he was saying, with a very small frown on his face, "Do not worry about the balloons, Anna, please. Seriously, have I moved all the way here so that I have to worry about there being no purple balloons in town?"

He rolled his eyes as he cut the call, but Dean's attention was on the man now, completely. "You know Anna?"

"Yes, of course. She's my sister."

"No, really," scrambled Dean frantically. Shit. "Anna Novak? Tiny and pretty? Reddest hair in town?"

"Um," The man across he counter said, getting slightly uncomfortable. "Yes."

"Okay," said Dean. Poker face, activate. "I happen to have helped her with her car once," Dean ventured, smiling, as he pushed forward the register for the man to fill in his details for home delivery. Dean could not help peeking in as the guy started to write down the necessary information. His handwriting was all close and constricted cursive, tiny, with really tall T's and long, fat, loopy G's.

 

Name : Castiel Novak. (Strange. Cas-ti-el. Hmmm.)

Address : (Who needs to read the address of an ex-girlfriend? Dean knows the entire floorplan, if necessary.)

Cell : 625-144-010 (Ah, not Anna's. That's something.)

Time of delivery : 7 p.m.

Order Details : (This in Dean's more spacey hand.) A green alien with red hair and eight legs. Honey Hullabaloo flavour. Two pounds. Fresh cream preferred over buttercream.

 

The man thanked Dean, paid the required amount,and started to go with a disturbingly goodbye kind of smile. But with his hand on the door, he paused for a second. Then he turned and those blue eyes were on Dean's again.

Dean raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile. "Yes?"

"I forgot to ask something." Castiel looked like he was feeling slightly awkward. "Your, uh, name."

Dean felt himself warming up to this weird guy with a weird name and abashed expressions. It was with his very best smile that he replied, "Dean. Nice to meet you, Castiel."

◆ ◆ ◆ 

It was five minutes to six when Gabriel returned to ZZZ. He had asked Dean to hold the fort as a special favour, while he went off on "important business." What important business, no one ever knew, but once a month or so. Gabriel implored Dean or his brother, Sam, to take over the bakery - or whoever else he could find. Apparently, it was something he absolutely had to do. Since Dean had known Gabe since practically forever, he did it sometimes, on the condition that a wonderful double fudge cake be presented to his house the next evening, gift-wrapped and all. It was originally named Dark Dark Matter, but it so happened that the only person who ever brought it was Dean, so one day, Sam and Gabe changed the name to In The Name Of Dean.

Having a cake named after him was cool. Eating it for the entire next week, slowly, was even better.

Gabe looked at the cake kept ready on the counter, and raised his eyebrows at Dean.

Dean grinned. "Anna's son. I'm delivering it, okay, so don't you send any of your blokes to send it there."

"Still sweet on the woman? Who'd have known." Gabriel did not approve of Anna for the entire seven months and four days she had been Dean's girlfriend. ("Hair's too red, Dean, she's a heartbreaker, Dean, don't trust her, Dean, I've known her since high school.")

"I'm not sweet on her," Dean said, seriously.

Gabe threw him a Oh I totally believe you gesture.

Rolling his eyes, Dean repeated, "Whatever. I'm delivering that. Time's seven, right, so I'm just gonna get home and freshen up a bit. Stay away. My alien. Clear?"

"Freshening up, are we? Planning a night? Not happening, kiddo."

"I'm not stepping into Anna's place smelling like a damn cotton candy from your shop," mumbled Dean as he left the bakery with a soft ti-ding of the door.

 

CASTIEL

Having completely forgotten how horrible pre-teen birthday parties used to be, Castiel bravely walked towards Anna's place at about half-past six. However, being new to the town, Anna was his only hope of passing the evening in the company of anything more intelligent than his pet turtle and pet cat.

Since he was her next door neighbour, it wasn't much of a walk, either. He would have walked a little slower had he remembered how much he hated parties of all sizes and shapes, but by the time he stepped through the wide open front door, it was too late. Streamers, balloons, and eight-year olds assaulted him from all directions possible within the height of his knee.

Castiel's shirt almost felt sorry for his new jeans, which had something sticky around one ankle (jelly?) and something mysterious red stain around a thigh (Kool-Aid?) Some industrious eight year old had over extended himself trying to reach that high.

Some sort of cheerful jingly tunes hopped around the house, with their origin at the music system in the living room. Precariously balancing his present for Westie in one hand, and ambitiously trying to protect at least one ear from the pandemonium around the house, he made his way towards the kitchen, where Anna was giving away fruit juice and honey sandwiches with factory-like precision. She waved a honey sandwich at him and smiled when she saw him. "Hey, Cattle."

Any generous feelings that Castiel had had when he saw her smile were immediately vaporised when she called him that childhood nickname.

"Hello, Bananna," he retaliated, with a searing glare, as he kept the brightly wrapped box on the counter.

She didn't get the message, because she continued, "Cat, if you could just check up on the kids in the backyard? Westie has decided he wanted to drive the inflatable pirate ship."

With a resigned sigh, Castiel was about to go to the backyard to see with his own eyes how an inflatable pirate ship could be driven in such limited space, when the doorbell rang in two very short bursts.

He made a reassuring I'll go get it sign to his sister, because she looked about ready to give up the entire birthday party into hands of the sweet Gods above. When he reached the front door, he remembered that it had been wide open, anyway, and the man outside was just being polite.

It was dark outside the front door, because in all the excitement Anna must have forgotten to swith on the porch light. Cas switched it on before he reached the door, and in the warm yellow light was the face of the guy from the bakery, smiling the brightest smile.

"Hello, Castiel," Dean pepped up. "Hold this just for a moment, please."

If possible, Dean looked even better now than he was looking in the morning. He had clearly changed for the party, and was now in dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, all packaged under a worn-out, but soft-looking, leather jacket. (Castiel's fingers proposed interesting requests to his brain, along the lines of Unchain jacket now? and Feel soft t-shirt now?) Without even thinking about why he was listening, Castiel allowed the four-pound cake in its box to be given to him, while Dean started removing his shoes.

"That is a bad idea, Dean."

Dean seemed to think Castiel was referring to the fact that he was preparing to enter the house, and started to clarify in an unaffected tone, saying, "Oh, it's all right, I've known Anna for sometime now, she won't-"

"No. I'd suggest you leave your shoes on," Cas said, motioning to the sticky patch on one of his ankles and the red stain on a thigh with his eyes. "In fact, you should put on a pair of gumboots if you possibly can," he suggested.

"Okay." With a chuckle, Dean bent over and started tying up the shoelace he'd just unlaced. It was mere chance that Castiel happened to glance at Dean's back, and it was also mere chance that Dean's jacket had pulled tight across his back while he was bent over. It created an interesting effect, which only by chance made Castiel imagine the actual back and shoulders underneath. Then soon, too soon, Dean was done with his shoes and straightened up, and then, just by chance, Castiel was looking away with great interest and concentration at the wind-chime made from seashells hanging from the porch's peaked roof. So great was his sudden interest that he did not notice Dean trying to retrieve the cake box. A jolt of current that began somewhere near his fingertips and ended everywhere and nowhere in particular made Castiel start and look back at Dean. Under the box, their fingers touched (this was completely by chance, too). That explained the source of current. And like any device with a lot of current through it, Castiel's heart was also behaving in a manner he had never seen it behave, thud-thudding all over the place. Over the cakebox, their gaze connected, and it seemed that with every ever-amplifying heartbeat, the eye contact was also intensifying...

"CASTIEL IT'S SEVEN ALREADY AND THERE'S NO CAKE-" bellowed Anna's voice from somewhere inside the house and Castiel started violently. With widened eyes, he stepped back into the front door and mumbled to Dean to come in.

Then he ran away to a certain pirate ship in the backyard, ready to drive it himself if necessary, with a red face and an erratically beating heart

 

DEAN

When Dean had walked up Anna's driveway, there were so many things he hadn't noticed. The potted plant Anna had taken from his balcony almost a year ago, because she said she loved it, was sitting under the fence, dried and dying. Dean did not notice this. Almost three boxes of the cake In The Name Of Dean were stacked up in the empty space next to where she parked her car, still not given for recycling. Dean did not notice this. The seashell wind chime he had specially got for Anna on their very first and only Christmas together was still tinkling gently and soothingly over his head on her porch roof, as he was waiting for the bell to be answered. Dean did not notice this, either.

But somehow, when a certain person walked out to answer the door, Dean noticed the wonderful, buttoned-up white shirt covering this person. This was a person, Castiel, who wore a tie to the birthday party of an eight-year old, that too wrong-side out. Dean noticed that. And when their fingers brushed, it was hard not to notice, how things started happening under Dean's tanned skin - surprising things of seemingly electric origin. When Castiel was looking up at something after Dean got up from tying his laces, the man's brow was furrowed just a little bit and there was a jawline Dean longed to trace with his fingernails, just to feel the day-old stubble that he knew he'd feel. And below the jawline, the throat that ended, so petulantly under the severe white collar, holding promises of soft skin and small gasps of surprise.

Dean definitely did notice all that.

But, to his credit, he had tried very hard not to.

It was, after all, Anna's place he had come to. An ex-girlfriend since about an year, Dean knew she was dating Ronan from work now. It might seem odd to call on her now, but Westie's birthday was a good excuse. The kid had really bonded with Dean, and Dean hoped he'd be glad to see him, at least after the red remote-controlled car had been unwrapped from its gift-wrap. His main motive was to get to know this new guy with the wonderful eyes and see how he looked when he smiled.

"Dean!" Exclaimed Anna from the passage that led from the living room to the kitchen. Then, with a frown, "I don't remember inviting you."

Dean grinned. "Castiel here saved you the trouble, sweetie."

Castiel choked on the orange juice he was stealthily sipping behind Anna's back. "I-" he began, but then managed to interrupt himself with a bout of coughing. Dean, very helpfully, continued for him.

"He'd come for the cake and it was my day of the month at the bakery, so Castiel here was kind enough to invite me to the party after he came to know how well we know each other, Anna." Dean's eyes were wide and innocent, and his tone easy and friendly. He knew she was gonna fall for it.

"Okay," Anna said, albeit hesitantly. She glanced at Castiel, who was looking back at her and nodding, mimicking Dean's wide eyes and smile. "Okay, but, um. No climbing onto the inflatable pirate ship in the backyard."

"There's a pirate ship in the backyard?" Dean replied gleefully.

And just like that, the tone of the evening was set.

 

CASTIEL

It was a good thing that the orange juice had choked him when it did. Because now he was too busy choking and coughing out the sourness from his lungs to laugh at Dean's ridiculous lies.

In an hour to the party, which Castiel had spent leaning against a convenient wall drinking down gallons of orange juice, he was still surprised at what Dean was capable of. It seemed there were no limits to what the man could charm - a 30-year old Anna or any 8 year old seemed all the same to him.

And he was so carefree.

So quick to laugh, so ridiculously joyful.

He was the one who'd started the Dead Sea game - obviously starring himself as Pirate Crook and making half the eight-year olds his cronies.

"Mwahahaha!" He had roared evilly from top of the inflatable pirate ship Anna had told him not to climb. "My li'l chummys," he addressed the gaggle of adoring kids, pointing stoically at Castiel with a NERF gun. "That man right there is Captain Cute! Our worst enemy! We must destroy him!"

Castiel felt his cheeks heat up, but at the same time a corner of his mouth quirked up in a surprise smile. He kept his juice cup aside and mimicked shooting them half-heartedly with a pretend machine gun.

The other half of the kids that were with him started shouting his new title, much to Castiel's embarassment. "Captain Cute - Shoot! Captain Cute - Shoot!!

On the very air filled deck, Dean now stood doubled up, laughing at the turn his joke had taken.

"Destroy him!" The children took up the chant gleefully, all now pointing an assorted mixture of NERF guns, water cannons and finger guns at him. "Destroy him, destroy him!" They said, bouncing on the wobbly rubber ship's surface.

The war ended only when they cake was brought out. (NOTE : The outcome is still a long-kept secret, with many differing versions.

Pirate Crook's crew allege that every single one of Captain Cute's honest men were killed from the vicious round of firing and cannons that were unleashed on them by the ship-men. Many were taken prisoner and Captain Cute himself was made to walk the plank by Pirate Crook. Apparently Captain Cute's last words were, simply enough, "It's been so long since I've done this!" followed by a gaggle of insane laughter, which seems a bit improbable.

On the other hand, Captain Cute's brave and honest men state frequently and repeatedly, that it was Pirate Crook who fell from his own ship when he was startled by a rogue NERF foam bullet to his ear, and all of the Captain's men on the ground then proceeded to surround him with delighted giggles, braving the fearful firing from the ship with courage and fearlessness. They further completed the formality of climbing upon the person of the much-wanted Pirate Crook, and jumping upon him thoroughly, since this was accepted among them as the civilised method of disarming dangerous pirates. It was Captain Cute, who with his generosity, asked his brave and serious patriots to kindly stop jumping on the poor Pirate Crook, and then escorted the criminal himself into the Prison (the kitchen.)

Which version of the Great Pirate War is the true version, is now left with the audience to decide.)

When all the kids had been picked up by their respective parents, and when West was fast asleep on the couch, clutching a small rubber ball for some reason, Castiel and Dean helped Anna clean up after the party.

Anna was smiling happily, chattering away while she vacuumed the floor. "I think he liked it, don't you? You both were wonderful, really, Cat, I've never seen you actually playing or for that matter, giggling, ever before. And I'm your sister." She said, raising an eyebrow in sceptical amusement.

"I was not giggling," said Castiel, defending himself with as much seriousness possible while picking up the balloons and streamers littering the floor. His hands were full of them.

"Hey, he was giggling all right!" Dean's voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by chuckles. Castiel rolled his eyes. Dean had volunteered to do the dishes. Dean casually walked into the living room, one hand holding a wet casserole and the other drying it in a repetitive circular motion. "By the way, Anna, you should have told me about Captain Cute here."

"I might have mentioned him once or twice."

"No, you told me about a tall frowny guy who wouldn't know what fun was even if it came and kissed him on h is-"

"Well, that's what he is," said Anna conspiratorially, leaning on the vacuum cleaners handle, looking up at Dean. "Today was the first time I saw his teeth being used to express delight. Hmm, maybe except for that one time when-"

"I," Castiel hurriedly interrupted, "am right here."

Dean was leaning his shoulder sideways on the doorframe, still drying the casserole unnecessarily. "Yes, Captain Cute, we see you," winked Dean.

And yet again, Castiel felt heat rising up to fill his face. He turned his face away towards the balloons and streamers in his arms. "Where do you want these?" He asked Anna, fully knowing that Dean was still staring shamelessly at him. For some reason a tiny bubble of annoyance formed somewhere near his stomach.

"Somewhere in the garage for now, Cat. The keys are under the yellow plant outside."

As Castiel made his way across the living room and out, he could feel Dean's eyes on him like he was something to be stared at. He walked out, seething and fuming.

The very audacity, Castiel thought with something close to surprise. The shameless man would flirt with the vacuum cleaner or God forbid, the very carpets, if he were allowed to. The yellow plant was right next to the garage door. Castiel kept his colorful stack of party decorations carefully down as he bent to find the key. He frowned. There wasn't just one key there, but many, many copies of the same garage key under that plant. Any metal detector would go off it's head within a foot from this stash. Why so many keys? 

Anyway. Castiel bristled righteously as the garage door creaked open. He doesn't even look that wonderful.

But his heart disagreed with him here. It was still skittering all over the place because of Dean's wink back in the house. It kept sending images to his brain, and his brain somehow kept ordering his heart to be even more skittish, and the overall effect was such that every seven seconds, Castiel found himself smiling for no reason.

Christ. Anna's garage was a mess. What looked like the perfect place to stash streamers and balloons in a place that was so spectacularly untidy? 

By the time Castiel dumped the decorations in a colorful mess on a relatively clearer part of the garage floor, he had convinced himself that Dean was just another normal human being walking around and not something special.

 

DEAN

As soon as Castiel left for the garage - blushing, mind you, - Anna turned to Dean with ferocious speed.

"Stop flirting with my brother," she hissed, stressing every word and narrowing her eyes to enhance the effect. However, Dean looked at her completely poker-faced.

"What?" Dean asked, "He's cute, but it's not like he's going to-"

"He's gay. You might manage to hurt his feelings, actually." Anna was serious.

"But-"

"See, Dean," she interrupted. "This is not the best time for him, okay?" Her face took on a worried shade as she pushed back a sheaf of hair behind an ear. "He doesn't need anyone who cannot stay. And we all know how great you are at not staying. So all I'm saying is, don't start anything which you don't mean."

Dean glared at her. He didn't like it when Anna behaved like this. Somewhere in the background he could hear continuous dull thuds like someone banging on a door far away. He ignored it and spoke out.

"Stop assuming things, Anna. I'm not the same I was a year ago. Okay, so I did not manage to stay, but I did my best! And what's wrong with your brother?"

Anna pursed her lips. "It's his tale to tell."

"And why is he still in the garage?"

What looked like a quirk of one corner of Anna's mouth formed into a hesitant smile. "He could be decorating it. Balloons and streamers."

"Oh, crap, Anna!" He said, a grin forming on his face, too. "You haven't repaired that lock on the garage door, have you?"

"Not yet."

They burst out laughing.

"I'll go get him out," volunteered Dean. "Good night, Anna."

"Remember what I said, okay? Goodnight to you too, Dean," Anna smiled. "It was nice to have you over. Thanks."

The front door shut slowly behind him, and Dean walked in the dim porch light towards the garage door, thinking about what Anna had said. Surely he wasn't this obvious? The entire idea of Dean's flirting was based on subtlety, and if that cover was blown, Dean thought, he would have to try harder to let Castiel know that he meant only fun and nothing more. And he wasn't that pretty anyway. I mean, blue eyes and messy black hair could be found on a thousand people in this city alone. How could there be anything more special in this particular human being?

By the time Dean reached the yellow plant outside the garage door, he had convinced himself that Castiel was just another normal human being walking around and not something special.

 

CASTIEL

"Annaaaa?? Anna!"

After five minutes of well deserved rest, Castiel had resumed thumping loudly on the garage door. The corrugated tin made a satisfactorily loud noise every time his fist struck it, but it seemed that the entire world had suddenly become deaf, because no one had come around to getting him out of this place yet.

What sort of a garage door opens only from the outside?

He tried shouting again, but it still felt too much of a damsel in distress scenario. I'm actually shouting for help.

"Annaaa! Hello?"

"Quit wailing, man. I'm getting the keys."

The thing about shouting for help is that you never really expect to be answered. So it wasn't Castiel's fault that when a certain voice replied from the side of the free world, he was understandably taken aback.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sherlock, another second, please."

"Where's Anna?"

"Sitting on her couch and laughing at you, obviously."

"Hmmph."

"All sunshine and yellow flowers, aren't you?"

Castiel didn't reply. A clink or two later, a loud roaring noise came as the door was lifted from the outside and rolled up.

And there was Dean, both holding up the door and leaning against it with a hand. The streetlight across the lawn gilded the edges of his black leather jacket in sharp angular lines and rested on the edges of his face in softer airbrushed golden light. He was smiling.

Of course, Castiel thought resignedly as his heart skittered again. Of course he's special.

 

DEAN

As the door roared up to open, the streetlight from across the lawn invaded the garage in a golden glare, illuminating it's untidiness in all it's glory.

But where the light hit Castiel, the world changed into soft angles and blue reflections, not reflecting off his face but going there and resting. Dean forgot about the car door he was holding up. Castiel was seated on the trunk of Anna's car, hands folded and head tilted, that glorious camel trench coat all over the place. And there was something to his gaze right now, something deeper than just looking, something better than just admiring. Dean held it in his gaze and smiled, because he had just realized something.

This combination of eyes and hair and trench coat and buttoned white shirt and tie and sadness and depth and mystery was only to be found here with this one man.

This one man, Dean thought with surprise as his heart sped up again.This one man's special.

"Come on," Dean said to him, being as casual as possible while trying to supress sudden urges that involved kissing and cars and buttoned white shirts. "I'm not used to holding the door open and being a gentleman." To be honest, the hand holding up the garage door was starting to become painfully numb now. Atleast normal doors opened, well, normally.

Castiel slid down the hood and landed efficiently on both his feet, and then slunk down from under the door. Maybe intentionally, maybe not, he seemed to walk out unnecessarily close to Dean. Not close enough to distinguish his scent, but close like a gentle whoosh of wind.

"What kind of garage conspires to lock the owner inside?" while helping Dean down the shutter, Castiel remarked.

"It just wanted to look at you a little while longer, Captain," smirked Dean as they were crossing Anna's raggedy lawn towards Castiel's smooth one. In the dark it was hard to see whether the other man was blushing or not, but he didn't reply.

When they walked out of Anna's driveway, Dean followed Castiel to the general direction of his house. Castiel stopped walking and raised a questioning eyebrow with admirable skill. Dean gave him his best impression of innocence. "What? I'm walking you home. It's only polite, right?"

Castiel did not look particularly swayed by Dean's innocent expression. "Why?" He asked, skeptically, disinterestedly, ashe resumed walking slowly towards his house.

"Because," Dean said, "I want to look at you a little while longer, Captain."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've really wanted to forge ahead with this fic and I wrote a little bit over the last few days.  
> And then this happened.  
> I've wanted to keep this fic strictly happy and sweet, but some stories just force their way into existing.  
> Have fun, loves.

CASTIEL

Castiel rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"This Captain thing is getting old now."

“Fine, Commander.”

They were almost at his driveway, and the sound of gravel crunching under their feet was the only disturbance in the silence of the night.

They walked together, saying nothing much till they reached the porch. Castiel was wondering what was to be done, now. Obviously, the most polite thing to do was to invite Dean in, but that would send a message that Cas wasn’t ready to send.  Before Cas could climb up the stairs to his porch, he found his right forearm gently being pulled back.

“Hey, Cas.”

Cas didn’t say anything, just pointedly looked at the other man’s hand on his forearm with a questioning eyebrow. Dean immediately let go, abashed. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, Dean. Come in now, it’s getting cold out here.”

“Uh, no. I gotta run, man, Sam would be wondering where I’ve been, I don’t generally deliver orders, you know.”

This hit Cas with the full force of a good surprise. “You don’t do delivery?”

Dean smiled crookedly. “Nope. Just made an exception for you.”

Cas didn’t know why the weather didn’t feel cold anymore. Things felt slightly warm and fuzzy and nice. And then the surprise hit him again, as the questions started to appear slowly. Without his knowing, his own grin came up onto his face, mirroring Dean’s. He wanted to know more about this person who meets a man in a bakery shop, takes a weird order to a birthday party, and then participates in the said birthday party like an eight year old. Who does the dishes and opens garage doors. Who smiles such crooked smiles that leave one no choice but to grin back.

“Come in, Dean. It’s only polite for me to offer you tea in the very least.”

Dean scrunched up his face in distaste. “You're a tea person?”

“No, I am completely and totally a coffee person,” Cas smiled, “but I just thought that tea sounded more sophisticated.”

Dean chuckled lightly. “No, Cas, I gotta go. I’m sure there’ll be many times when you can offer me your sophisticated tea.”

“As you wish, then. Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Commander.”

Cas rolled his eyes slightly. Dean turned and left, and that was when Cas noticed the tiny bubble of disappointment in his heart slowly expanding on seeing him walk away. Barely four steps later, though, Dean turned around.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” his voice slightly more gruff than usual.

Cas was too stunned for a coherent reply. “Out?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, less sure now. “You and me? Maybe dinner?”

Eyebrows raised, and with a slight smile, Dean was asking him out. And Cas would love to say yes, so much, just so as to see those eyes look at him again like that, he would say yes, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t let this get beyond the realms of normal flirting, he couldn’t allow Dean to hope that way for something good to happen between them. He couldn’t disappoint another person that way, just like the one he had run away from only a few weeks ago. Memories of old times hit him, hard, and broke his confidence little by little, chiseled at his ability and desire to say yes.

He could literally _see_ his own face in Dean’s eyes, shutting down all it’s openness and smiles that only a moment before were so wonderful to see.

“Dean,” he began to say, “I don’t think I am ready to date someone yet.”

Something happened to Dean’s face then, the slightest of disappointments shook the brightest of smiles and made it into only a faded copy of the original.

And Cas _just had_ to backtrack. He had to say yes to this man. Anything else felt…wrong for some reason.

“But, can I take a raincheck on that? I’d love to go out sometime, but now seems to be a bad time for me. If I could have your number…?”

Dean’s reassurance did not return at this, but at least he seemed slightly less disappointed than before. “Sure.”

They exchanged numbers, said goodnight again, and Cas let himself inside his house.

In the bathroom, he washed his face free of all expression, letting the cold water make him feel even colder than before. He looked into the large mirror, and then to a picture tucked in its frame. It was of a woman, with a beautiful, round face and the cheekiest of smiles, framed by long black hair, grinning at the camera in an all black ensemble of skinny jeans and a jacket.

Castiel fell to the floor of the bathroom in this new town, and cried. He fisted large clumps of his trenchcoat in his hands, enjoying the tenseness of his muscles, enjoying how it felt like he could never let go. These were loud, uncontrolled tears, sounding like the anguish of wrong decisions and love lost, of guilt and longing that no new town or new people could wash away. Months later, it still hurt. Probably, it would always hurt.

The tears of the guilty die only when the guilt does. And that sometimes takes an entire lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short. There'll be longer chapters later. I think.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how you find this, so far.  
> P.S. There's more waiting to happen, people! Subscribe to NOT miss the next update.


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